Rogue
by Meeerf
Summary: Remember this one? Early 80's predecessor to modern RPGs done entirely in ASCII? Written, quite literally, in one shot. Crack!parody.


**Disclaimer: **Whatever, the game probably doesn't fall under copyright protection anymore, it's so old. You can find an online version at hexatron dot com. To save space, I own none of these trademarks: Safeway, Gummi Bears, Final Fantasy, or Sesame Street.

**Author's Note:** I used to play this game as a kid. Incessantly. On a computer with a black screen and one color of writing (green). As I recall, the back of the box it came in had some cursory fantasy story about being trapped in a maze, amulet of yendor, blah blah blah. I figure this makes about as much sense. And if MINESWEEPER can have a story written about it…

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Meerf woke up, his new name sinking into his head in a blaze of green lettering, rapidly replacing whatever name he had before. It made little difference. His default name was "rogue", and technically, that was a title more than a name. So, Meerf it was.

He pulled himself to his feet, taking stock of the situation. That had not changed. Green walls lit around him, illuminating the dark space beyond. At the corner there was a small round item marked with a character that was apparently the International Game Symbol for food.

Meerf picked it up, putting it in his mouth, finding it had the bitter-sweet taste of a kumquat. Not that he was entirely sure about that, since kumquats weren't exactly a staple at your average Safeway. Better than finding out it tasted like a slime mold, the taste of which was not so terrible, but the texture definitely left something to be desired, like Gummi Bears congealed on a car dashboard and overcooked okra, all rolled into one.

He didn't need the check his pack. He knew what would be there. The same +1, +0 mace, which he had finally figured out by about the hundredth dungeon run meant attack and defense strength, due to the lack of shiny illustrated instruction booklets such as those which came with Final Fantasy. A game he was incredibly jealous of, since the characters had actual faces, personalities, and occasional romantic liaisons.

Nothing to be done about it, though. Meerf shrugged, and headed out into the first, monotonous green corridor.

The second room was little different than the first, except for the presence of a large letter "K" rapidly advancing towards him. He blinked his eyes, wondering if this was some sort of Sesame Street acid flashback, but when he opened them, it was still there.

"I hit you," the K told him.

"Oh," Meerf said, puzzled.

The K waited impatiently, tapping one of the legs supporting the letter. "Now you're supposed to hit me."

"I am?" Meerf asked, trying to remember what came next. "What are you, anyway?"

"A kestrel, obviously," the K told him.

To the best of his knowledge, a kestrel was a seabird, something like a seagull. How it was supposed to be dangerous was beyond him, but… Better not to think about it. It was only level one anyway. "Right, I hit you," he said.

"Aieee!" the K cried, suddenly flopping over. "You killed the kestrel!"

Meerf shrugged, stepping over shattered pixels of the dead (?) letter. His smile brightened, or would have if it hadn't been plastered on, at the sight of treasure other than a small shriveled fruit.

Gold – that was always pretty cool. A plaid potion, which he swished around, trying to figure out why the stripes didn't go away. A mahogany wand, and a scroll entitled "barf qui snortboggle". He had always wondered if those scroll titles were truly randomly generated, or if there was a joke in there somewhere.

He sat down in the corner, remembering to tap the "." key to restore the pathetic amount of hit points the K had taken out of him. He pulled the scroll first, neatly unwrapping it to its full length.

"This is a scroll of identify! What would you like to identify?" the paper cheerfully showed.

Right. What did he have? A staff, and a potion. "Staff, please," he told the paper.

"Great!" Various computer-like processing noises occurred. "Congratulations! You have a staff of polymorph, six charges! Have a nice day!" The paper crumpled out of his hands.

Polymorph. That was always a recipe for a good time. Turning to the potion, he shrugged, and investigated is the same way he always did – by downing it in one big gulp, splashing a couple of plaid droplets on his green shirt.

Instantly, the walls seemed to waver around him. "Wow, everything seems so cosmic," he mumbled. _Potion of hallucination_, he thought distantly. At least it would liven up things a bit.

He skipped gaily down the swirling corridors, meandering through a couple of desolate rooms and picking up a couple pieces of random crap. Finally, a big "X" greeted him.

"The xenoc hit you," it announced.

"What is a xenoc?" Meerf wondered, confused. No matter, it was now a big D. "A dragon," he screamed, trying to run away, but the D followed.

"It's that stupid potion you drank. You should know drugs and RPGs don't mix," the dragon told him, although he turned to find an S instead. "Oh, by the way, the snake hit you."

Meerf was hardly listening, wondering if he had been actually zapping the polymorph staff in his pocket, the same way you sometimes annoy the neighbors by setting off the panic button on your car late at night. "That's it!" he realized, pulling the staff out and pointing it at the Q. "Polymorph!"

The F sighed. "I was only a plain, boring bat," it said, "but you just turned me into a Venus Flytrap. A monster several floors ahead. You don't have nearly enough hit points to fight me. Pretty dumb."

"Huh?" Meerf said, now thoroughly confused.

"Oh, forget it," the F said, and leaned over to bite off his head.

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I'll stop there. But if I feel inclined later, or people are interested, I could potentially keep this going. Indefinitely.


End file.
